


The Second Thing

by discoanddragons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Fluff and Humor, Lonely Dean Winchester, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 06:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discoanddragons/pseuds/discoanddragons
Summary: Dean (accidentally) steals his unbelievably hot neighbor's cat.





	The Second Thing

This isn’t the first time the white cat shows up outside Dean’s door. It’s meowing and squeaking for a long while before he finally gives in.

It started off with a promise to himself that he wouldn’t encourage it. If he’d feed it, he’d never get rid of it. This was before he…accidentally experimented with feeding the cat Cheez Doodles. Since then, the cat just keeps showing up and lately, it’s gotten more and more difficult to just listen to it crying outside his door.

”Fine,” he says with a sigh as he’s opening the front door, the cat running inside, its tail brushing past his leg as it disappears into the kitchen. Dean checks around outside the door to make sure no one saw him – mostly because he doesn’t want people to think he’s stealing the cat, but maybe also slightly because he isn’t particularly keen on the idea of people thinking he actually _owns a cat_.

Because he doesn’t. He wouldn’t. He just feels sorry for the poor thing, always sitting outside his door begging for him to let it inside. The cat clearly has an owner, judging by the collar with tiny cartoon bees on it. But that’s it – just a collar, no name, no address; no nothing.

It’s just a strange, white cat with a collar with bees on it.

Dean closes the door shut and follows the cat into the kitchen, where it’s already sitting on the table. Dean sighs again and as he can feel his first sneeze already coming up, he remembers why he doesn’t own a cat.

~ * ~

He never really _plans_ to keep the cat. It just happens. There’s not a moment when he decides to become a full time cat owner. It just…happens.

Before he knows it, he finds himself standing in line at the pharmacy, determined to buy some kind of meds to stop himself from sneezing so damn much. Because truth is, during the last couple of weeks he’s grown kind of fond of that little creature. And even if she’s a poor substitute for someone _human_ to share his bed, at least it’s not as lonely anymore.

But being allergic, one can only wake up with a cat sleeping in one’s face so many times before one starts getting desperate.

The woman behind the counter helps him with the meds, and even if he’s feeling guilty for practically stealing a cat, he’s glad he’ll stop sneezing in her presence.

It’s on his way out he actually starts feeling guilty for _real_.

**HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT?**

Dean eyes the paper taped on the door in front of him. He has stopped with one hand on the door and the bag with meds in the other. The picture below the text is definitely Bee Cat– What?! He had to name that dumb thing _something_! And it makes sense. Because of the collar. Of course.

He rips the paper from the door and exits the shop, not entirely sure what to do with this new found information. There’s a description of the cat as well as number for whoever the owner is.

Dean’s contemplates calling the number during his ride home, but as soon as he steps through the door and picks up the cat, he decides to wait for a few days longer. What if her owner isn’t taking care of her? That’s a reason for her to run away. They’re probably not even remotely nice to her, Dean decides as he aimlessly scratches the cat behind the ear on his way to the living room.

Sitting down on the couch, he puts Bee Cat down next to him so he can read through the information on the note again.

_White, female cat missing from home for three weeks. Clara–_

_Clara_?! Yeah, the cat is definitely staying with Dean.

_–is wearing a black collar with bees on it. Last seen at Second Street three weeks ago._

And then some desperate demands about contacting whoever the owner is as soon as possible. He raises a confused eyebrow at the location, however. It doesn’t have to mean the cat belongs to one of his neighbors, does it? She simply likes hanging around Second Street, where _Dean_ lives. She just really likes Dean, that’s it.

Dean huffs a humorless laugh and watches Bee Cat lick her paw for a moment. Dean can’t help but smile in her direction, and she pauses her cleaning and looks up and blinks slowly as a reply.

Yeah. She’s staying.

~ * ~

Dean sees a few more of the notes around town the following days. He feels more and more selfish each time he catches a glimpse of one, and after a week he starts to _actually_ feel bad about it. But it’s so nice to have someone around, even if it’s just a dumb cat.

She’s a lot more fun than Dean could’ve imagined. As soon as he got his sneezing under control, he started to actually be able to enjoy her company. She obviously doesn’t say much, but it’s really… _nice_ to have someone around, if only just for company when he’s watching Dr. Sexy on Thursdays.

The cat sits with him at breakfast (Dean doesn’t have the heart to shoo her off the table, even if he doesn’t particularly like the idea of having her there), she keeps him company when he’s shaving every morning (patiently balancing on the edge of the bath tub), she greets him in her own cat way when he comes home from work (rubbing her entire body against his leg, leaving a million white cat hairs on his jeans) at Bobby’s garage every day; it’s just…less lonely.

Not that Dean can’t handle being alone. Of course not. He likes being alone. Alone is great! Complete freedom. He doesn’t even have to get dressed on the weekends unless he really wants to. It’s great. _Amazing_ , even. Completely awesome. No one to disturb him.

That doesn’t mean he hates company.

Point is, for some reason he enjoys having that dumb cat around.

And he _will_ give her back to her owner, eventually. He’s not a complete douche bag. A couple of days more won’t hurt anyone. If anything, it’ll just bring even more happiness to their reunion.

This way, her owner might learn to _really_ appreciate her.

~ * ~

It all changes quite drastically one day.

He’s walking his usual way home when he spots him.

First, he just shamelessly (well, maybe not _entirely_ shamelessly…) checks him out. He’s standing with his back (or maybe a tiny bit more importantly, his ass) towards Dean, weirdly positioned by a wooden street lamp. Of course Dean doesn’t plan to stop, he’s just going to casually walk by, maybe say ‘hello’, just to be polite; they’re practically neighbors after all.

Saying ‘hello’ to one’s unbelievably hot neighbor doesn’t exactly tell all one’s secret thoughts about that neighbor, does it? He just wants to be nice, for a change. He’s been feeling unusually shitty these last couple of weeks. Bee Cat may have a little bit to do with that. Not returning Bee Cat to Bee Cat’s owner _definitely_ has something to do with that.

Dean’s stomach drops the second he passes his unbelievably hot neighbor and more importantly (even more so than his ass, for once) the note he’s nailing to the lamp post.

The note looks very familiar. In fact, it’s exactly the same kind of note Dean’s carefully hidden away (he doesn’t need a stupid note to remind him what a shitty human being he is) under a stack of magazines on the coffee table in the living room.

For a split second, Dean contemplates whether or not he should just keep walking and never look back. He _is_ a bad person, there’s no use denying that. Stealing a cat is just a part of his charming personality, right?

But…hot neighbor.

”Uh, hi,” Dean says. He’s almost surprised by hearing his own voice and stops a moment too late, ending up looking like a complete fool. The man looks up from the lamp post, and Dean’s stupid heart skips a beat. He has the bluest eyes Dean has ever seen (and he’s perfectly aware how cheesy and _dumb_ that sounds and almost shudders a little at the thought; or maybe it’s the blue eyes in general making him feel all wobbly – either way, he isn’t fully in control in this moment and is bound to make a fool out of himself).

”Hello,” the man says, using his thumb to press the last nail into the wooden lamp post, the note now strictly sticking to it. He then turns to Dean again with a faint smile on his face, his head cocked slightly to the side.

”Uh, I’m Dean,” Dean stutters and reaches up to scratch the backside of his neck.

”Hello, Dean.”

Dumbfounded, Dean stares back at the man for a moment before huffing a nervous laugh. ”Um, about that note…I may or may not have stolen your cat.”

He doesn’t really mean to say those words exactly, but before he knows it, that’s what he’s said. For a moment he’s terrified about the unbelievably hot neighbor’s reaction, swallowing thickly before shooting an apologetic smile in his direction.

”I’ll give her back, of course!” he quickly says to get rid of the very, very awkward silence suddenly created between them. Wow, those eyes really are intensely blue.

”Why would you steal my cat?” His voice is gravelly and deep, and leaves an embarrassingly clear mental impact on Dean (he files away the memory of it in a distant place of his brain he will only revisit in his weakest moments), who loses his ability to speak for a moment. He covers it up by clearing his throat before speaking again, voice slightly shaky.

”She just showed up on my doorstep, man! I didn’t know she had an owner.”

”So the collar around her neck was too unclear for you?”

That leaves Dean dumbfounded yet again, and he doesn’t really see the point of lying when he’s clearly onto him already.

”Look, man. I’ll give her back. No problem. Do you wanna swing by later or are you just coming with me?”

”Where is your house located?”

”Second Street.” He cocks his head in that direction. ”The far away end.”

”I will _swing by_ –” he makes weird, uncertain air quotes at those last words, ”–later. Is thirty minutes acceptable?”

”Yeah,” Dean says, frowning slightly. ”That’s…acceptable.” What his neighbor needs thirty minutes for, is beyond Dean, but he’s not really in a position to question him right now. Dean only knows, that if it was _his_ cat in the care of a complete stranger, he’d probably get over there as soon as possible to get it back. But yet again, Dean will just shut up.

The man’s gaze sure is intense, blue-eyed or not. He nods for a moment before he finally (Dean isn’t sure if it’s a good ‘finally’, but probably not) breaks their eye contact. The first sign of anything but cold chitchat in the form of a careful laugh from the unbelievably hot neighbor breaks the silence, and Dean looks up in surprise.

”I suppose this won’t be of use anymore, will it?” He tilts his head towards the note on the lamp post.

”Guess so.” 

No answer.

”So… I’ll see you later, then?”

”Mm hm.” The man is busy removing the note from the lamp post, and Dean awkwardly walks away before he gets a chance to say anything else embarrassing.

~ * ~

Is his house always this messy?

Dean’s running around trying to make his house look decent. He’s always been such a neat freak; when and why did he ever let himself go like this?

He remembers the hidden note last of all, and even it his unbelievably hot neighbor never would’ve found it under all those magazines, he throws it in the trash. He even makes sure it’s positioned under other trash to make sure he _definitely_ won’t see it.

Just as he aimlessly finishes making coffee, (which he, by the way, always does after work – nothing special about it at all!) the doorbell rings. He tries to straighten his shirt by rubbing his hands all over it, probably messing it up more than fixing it, and aims for the door. A deep breath later, he opens it, immediately locking gazes with the _unbelievably hot neighbor_ (which reminds him that he should probably ask for a name).

”Are you going to let me inside?”

Before Dean gets a chance to answer, he’s interrupted by a familiar meow from behind his back. Dean turns around and picks up the cat.

”Um, unless you want coffee…here she is.” Dean rubs her gently on the head right between her ears, which, as he already knows, makes her purr right away.

”I would love some coffee, Dean.”

”Oh. Uh, in that case…” Dean steps aside, still with the cat cradled in his arms, and lets the man inside. ”You have a name?”

”Castiel.”

He stops one step inside, shutting the door behind him. Dean hands the cat over to him and with an approving nod he walks ahead to the kitchen. ”So, uh, _Castiel_ , do you want milk in your coffee? Sugar?”

”Milk.”

Castiel is standing in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen now, Bee Cat– _Clara_ – carefully held in his arms. He’s petting her between her ears, the cat just lying there, with its eyes closed and a content purring.

Dean places two cups of coffee on the table – one black and one light brown. ”Just…put her on the table. She likes sitting there keeping me company, I guess.”

Castiel does what he’s told with a slight frown on his face, and then sits himself down on the chair opposite Dean’s. It’s awkward for a moment, Dean positioning himself by the table, taking a hasty sip of his scorching hot coffee.

As he tries to hide the pain to show on his facial expression, he moves over to the topic at hand. ”So, uh…look, man. I’m sorry about the cat. Really. I didn’t know she had an owner, I mean, uh, of course I knew she _probably_ had one and I was looking for the notes but never saw any, so I just took for granted no one wanted her. Then, uh…I saw you. Today.”

”They were posted all over town, Dean.”

”I…didn’t see them,” he lied. “Sorry. Don’t go out much, I guess.”

”I see you every day, however. I suppose you are walking to work. It surprises me that you did not see the notes I pinned to every other lamp post on the entire street,” says Castiel and squints his eyes.

Dean swallows. ”Well, uh…”

”You could have just walked up to me if you wanted to talk.” Castiel’s gaze drops from Dean’s eyes to his lips, to his slightly exposed collarbone, somewhere below the table; then back up to his eyes again. It’s fast, if he’d blinked he would’ve missed it. Now it’s Dean’s turn to squint his eyes.

”I…” he begins, the words suddenly stuck in his throat.

_Get it together, Winchester._

”First, I really didn’t know the cat was yours before today.”

”And second?”

”What?”

”You said ‘first’, implying there is a second thing.”

”Oh.”

Clara observes them from her place at the other end of the table. She’s sitting there, looking at them, back and forth between them, blinking at them now and then. Dean glances over at her, getting one of those blinks in return that makes it feel like she can read his mind. Poor cat.

And the thing is, Dean can’t remember the second thing. When he looks away from the cat and back at Castiel, those electric blue eyes are there to meet his again, and one moment later, he’s changed Castiel’s name to ’the unbelievably beautiful neighbor’. Well, that’s his second name, at least. ‘Hot’ still stands, Dean decides as he watches Castiel lick his lips before finally breaking the silence.

”Well, if there isn’t a second thing…” says Castiel, and Dean is sure he’s missing something here. There’s something about the way Castiel pronounces that ‘well’ and the way his gaze yet again drops to Dean’s lips and then travels to somewhere under the table.

”Uh, can I…” Dean begins as he squirms a little in his seat, and he _knows_ what he wants to say, but it’s difficult. This part is difficult. He’s getting better at it, but it’s difficult. Because it’s…not a woman.

”Can you what?”

Dean nervously bites his lip. He isn’t ashamed, that’s definitely not it. He’s never been ashamed.

At least not since his dad died, but that’s an entirely different story. He’s just plain _nervous_.

”Can I…do something to make sure you accept my apology?” Dean finally says with a disappointed sigh.

”Coffee is adequate.”

”Okay…”

That obviously means coffee isn’t ‘adequate’. He’ll never be able to make Castiel forgive him for this.

Is that a… _smirk_ on Castiel’s face?

No, can’t be. Dean is just imagining things.

Dean watches Castiel reach out his hand for Clara, who walks up to it and bumps her nose against it. Castiel is impossible to read, and Dean is starting to get frustrated. One moment, he’s (at least sort of) smiling, and the other he’s cold and stiff. He likes that cat, however; that much is obvious.

”She likes it if you pet her between her ears…” Dean points out and takes a big sip of his coffee.

”I am aware.”

”Yeah…” Dean worries his bottom lip, feeling rather uncomfortable in Castiel’s company all of a sudden. Well, this isn’t going at all according to plan. Dean didn’t even _have_ a plan, and it’s still going straight to hell. Point is, this wasn’t at all how Dean imagined his first meeting with his unbelievably hot and beautiful neighbor.

But really, can he blame him? Dean practically stole his cat. He’s giving it back, obviously, but he _did_ steal it at first.

”I’m allergic to cats,” Dean finally says to break the silence.

Castiel looks up from Clara and makes eye-contact with Dean. Frowns. Squints. And then…

A smile! Is Dean imagining things? No, it’s definitely a smile. And it develops into a laugh. Is the man opposite him actually laughing?

”What?!” Dean bursts out, sincerely nervous by now.

”You…” Castiel begins, unable to speak because of his laughing, ”you stole… you stole a cat! And you’re…” He just keeps on laughing, all gummy smile, thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose and crinkled eyes, ” _allergic_ ,” he finally finishes.

”I had to buy meds for it,” Dean explains and laughs nervously, which only makes Castiel keep his laughing fit going. ”I stood in line for almost an hour.”

It all goes a lot smoother after that. Dean even manages to make Castiel laugh a second time by telling him the story about the Cheez Doodles. They talk about the cat, they talk about their shared love for coffee (even if Castiel is more of a gross, sweet latte kinda guy) and Dean even learns that Castiel works as an art teacher.

Dean makes them a second cup of coffee, which Castiel matter-of-factly (everything he says seems weirdly matter-of-fact, and eventually, Dean gets used to it) accepts. Dean’s having fun. It’s a nice time. And Dean turns more and more aware of that second thing he was supposed to tell Castiel. It’s all coming back to him now, and he’s feeling a little more confident now when he’s managed to make Castiel laugh.

The unbelievably hot and beautiful neighbor on a date with the man who stole his cat; that’s what the second thing is. Dean just has to ask. He will say no, Dean knows he will say no. Because Dean stole his cat.

Dean finally clears his throat and gets Castiel’s attention again. ”I was thinking, that… You know. Secondly… Would you maybe, uh…” Well, if he could stop stammering, that would be _great_. ”I’m really sorry about your cat. I am. And I was thinking that maybe I could… you know. Make it up to you.”

”Oh, I thought that was what the coffee was for.” Castiel raises the cup to his lips, Dean watching his unbelievably beautiful and hot neighbor’s every move. ”But yes. I expect you to make it up to me. One way or another.”

Which is also when Dean decides to just man up and ask.

”No, I was thinking…more like…a date? Unless you really hate me now. Because of the cat thing. I know this really great diner just outside–”

”Here I was, thinking you’d never ask.”

”So, uh…is that a yes?” 

”Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Took this down months ago but decided to re-upload it :)


End file.
